


Suferinţă

by Marksman18



Series: Hey, Life, Would You Mind Using Lube? [1]
Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Danny is 17 almost 18 in the start of this fic and he's gonna have his bday in it, If you look closely, Jazz is gonna force Vlad to actually see a trained therapist, The Fenton Family slowly find out how fucked up a person Vladdie is, Trans Danny, Trans Male Character, Trans Vlad, Vlad Deals With Trauma, Vlad is a mess, What Was I Thinking?, Why Did I Write This?, and he deals with the trauma OF this fic, and he's nicer to Danny now, but by the freaky guy in the seat on his other side, but he's realized he doesn't really feel that way about Jack and Maddie, coreplay, i mean he's still a law breaking little shit, i shit you not on my computer this is titled "i like vlad why must he suffer.txt", in the end of this fic, nice(ish)!Vlad, not by the mob boss, that he doesn't tell anyone about, that predates this fic, to deal with all the trauma he's suffered through, vlad gets drugged in a bar while making a deal with a mob boss, with some help, wow first trans vlad fic in the phucking phandom on this site and i traumatize him horrifically, you see exactly when the fucker drugs his drink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-10-04 00:43:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17294417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marksman18/pseuds/Marksman18
Summary: Vlad's life was starting to look up.He had realized that his feelings about Jack and Maddie were all wrong, and was working out a way to apologize for how he'd treated them and in the meantime was trying to make himself be better to them.He'd gotten Daniel to finally believe(after a full year of an uneasy truce)that he did not actually want to fight him, that he wanted to be civil and even friendly. They now trained together sometimes and the teenager even called him to ask for help with the occasional ghost too powerful for him(or the occasional difficult homework assignment).He even was going to get his hands on some books to help himself and Daniel learn more about ghost culture and laws. The fact that he may be breaking a plethora of them in order to get aforementioned books meant nothing. After all, he was just helping a couple of ghosts get back to the Ghost Zone, right?The fact that they likely committed crimes in both the human and ghost worlds meant as little to him as the fact their boss, who had contacted him in hopes of getting them back where they belonged, was the leader of a massive organized crime syndicate.He was going to meet the ghost in a bar where no one would question their motives.What could go wrong?





	Suferinţă

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so here are some details you'll need to kno going into this fic: Vlad's dad was a burly Russian man and his mom was a tall, thin Romanian woman, his deadname is Agnia and he combined his Russian and Romanian heritage in the name he picked; humans and ghosts are not genetically compatible with each other, but halfas can reproduce with both and the offspring will be the species of the other parent; Vlad's parents were very supportive of him but also very worried for him when he came out to them, he got bullied a lot as a kid and got a hell of a beating once his bullies learned he was trans and bi, this only made his parents more worried about him but they couldn't do anything to help him bc they were poor and the bullies' parents were a pastor and some local politicians; Vlad has dealt with anxiety and depression for most of his life, he has 5 (five) different types of panic attacks, there's 1)he just sits/stands there silently and shakes like a leaf with wide terrified eyes, 2)he paces and swears (actual swear words) loudly and creatively, 3)he hyperventallates and just can't fukin breathe, 4)he gets a little hysterical and rambles out true things and legit can't lie, and 5) where he just curls up rocks back and forth and cries as he hugs himself (and sometimes even bites his own hand or arm to kinda ground himself, the more panicked he is the harder he'll bite to give himself something else to focus on), these can transition into each other and if he's having any type other than 2 loud and/or sudden noises scare him shitless and makes it worse and usually if he's not in 5 it'll send him right to it, and after calming down from a panic attack he tends to wallow in self-loathing and make suicide "jokes," Jack and Maddie helped him through a lot of panic attacks in college and know how to deal with him to help get him out of them, and they worried abt him all the time and after one panic attack he actually tried to kill himself and they have not let him near any sharp objects since and made him give them everything they could think of that he might try and off himself with; Vlad has a happy place only since the accident and I'll go more into detail on that later.
> 
> Eventual crossovers but i want to keep those a surprise.
> 
> Ok, I think that's all you _need_ to kno before reading this.

It was official; Vlad hated bars.

Especially seedy Ghost Zone bars.

Like the one he was in now, for instance. He'd already been hit on thrice now by a group of drunken ghosts that reminded him painfully of a frat party gone wrong, he'd had to hiss at one specter to get her to stop trying to pick his pockets, and he'd kicked and stomped quite firmly on a mass of slimy tentacles that decided it liked his leg to get it to leave him alone. He was there on _business_ , that was it. _Just business._ He and a late mafioso were there to seal a deal, have a quick drink, and then get out of there like bats out of hell and fulfill their ends of the deal so they wouldn't have to deal with each other again. Don Hendrix (Vlad wasn't sure if Hendrix was his first name or last, and he wasn't stupid enough to ask) had a few assets that needed safe travel back into the Ghost Zone, and since Vlad was the only one with a stable, reliable portal that wasn't guaranteed to try and waste them on sight, he had to negotiate a one-time deal with him, especially since Vlad had made a clear point that he was not someone to be trifled with.

Don Hendrix sat on the stool next to Vlad Plasmius. Two infamous and powerful ghosts who didn't like each other but saw one another as a necessary evil, sitting in a seedy Ghost Zone bar, looking very out of place and very much like they were only there to make a deal of questionable legality (well, they were, but Walker didn't need to know that). Plasmius had a functional and reliable portal between worlds which Don Hendrix needed, and Plasmius had minimal knowledge of the Ghost Zone's laws and standard Ghost Zone etiquette, despite being half ghost for twenty years, and Don Hendrix had that knowledge. In return for one trip through the portal, the other ghost was giving the halfa a few books about the laws and culture of the Ghost Zone. (If he was being honest, Vlad only wanted the books on Ghost Zone law so he could find loopholes to exploit when he inevitably broke them.) Don Hendrix gave the bar a quick once-over before settling his unnerving gaze on Plasmius. The halfa stubbornly held eye contact with the ghost. He was grateful that his eyes were one solid color, which left the crime boss unaware that he was no longer staring him dead in the eye and was instead watching as he pulled a small book out of his jacket and handed it to him.

"Here," he said, "This book's got a few social norms and customs of the Zone. You'll get the rest of the books once my assets are back with me." The ghost stuck out his clammy yellow hand for Vlad to shake alongside the offered book.

Plasmius nodded and took the book with one hand and shook the other ghost's hand with his other. "Agreed. Your assets will have one time access to my portal, and I will not harm them unless they make any attempts against me."

A broad, fanged smile split Don Hendrix's face. "Good. Now, a drink to properly seal the deal and we can both be on our ways." The pale ghost ordered their drinks (nothing very strong, they both needed clear heads to safely get back to their own lairs, even if Walker _hadn't_ had it out for both of them they'd need it) and the two glasses were set promptly in front of them, and then the damn tentacled creature was back and it had brought a friend. The pink one seemed to have learned its lesson about touching Vlad and instead went for Don Hendrix's ankle, but its vomit green friend obviously had not and immediately gripped Plasmius' calf and seemed rather intent on removing his boot. Ok, gross and weird. The mafioso blasted the pink one and it squished away as quickly as it could and Vlad sent a bolt of electricity through the puke colored mass of gross slimy tentacles and it was sent writhing across the floor away from him.

He huffed in annoyance, then turned back to the Don and his drink. Don Hendrix raised his glass slightly in a toast, and waited for Plasmius to do the same before he knocked it all back in one swig. Vlad disposed of his in a similar manner, the liquid smelled somewhat foul and he'd rather not taste it too much. They both set their glasses down on the counter and made some pointless small-talk, as it would look suspicious if they both left immediately after exchanging words, a book, and shaking hands on what could easily be correctly interpreted as a deal. After a couple minutes, Vlad felt... off. Was it just him or was the world spinning a little too fast? Didn't matter; it was time to leave anyway.

He and Don Hendrix exchanged farewells and left the bar through different exits. Once outside, Vlad shook his head a few times in an attempt to clear it, but it didn't quite work. He frowned, but set off in the direction of his portal. Unbeknownst to Plasmius, the large, gargoyle-esque ghost that had been seated next to him slipped out of the bar to follow him, a predatory glint in his eyes.

* * *

Plasmius looked at his surroundings in confusion. Where was he? Where was he _going_ anyway? The halfa frowned. _Home,_ he reminded himself, _I'm going home._ He self-consciously pulled his cape around himself as he tried to remember which way home was. His breath hitched as all his senses suddenly sharpened to insane and painful levels. It took him a second to remember that that was his ghost sense, it meant that there was another ghost nearby. _Of course there's a ghost nearby,_ he thought, _This is the **Ghost Zone.**_ However, in that second in which he was berating himself for somehow forgetting what happened when he sensed a ghost, a ghost easily thrice his size had him pinned on his back to a nearby chunk of land. Vlad tried to shove the ghost off of him, but for some strange reason his limbs wouldn't cooperate, and when he successfully made contact with the larger ghost, his arms seemed to lose all strength. He thrashed as a claw - _claw!_ why hadn't he thought of that? (But no, his retractable claws weren't cooperating with him either)- traced a line from the center of his chest down to his belt, slitting the fabric, as harsh hands tore his tunic from his body. He tried to hit the ghost above him, knowing, _fearing_ , where this was heading, and the massive specter laughed, deep and gravelly. And then his pants were torn swiftly from his body as the ghost said something in that gravelly voice that the halfa couldn't make out, and Vlad tried to shut his legs as quickly as he possibly could. But the huge ghost just laughed that damn laugh and shoved his hand right between Vlad's legs.

And rubbed something Plasmius could've sworn he'd gotten rid of a long time ago. The halfa froze, and it vaguely registered with him that tears had begun falling down his face. _No. No, no no no. No no nonononononononono no NO!_ The ghost seemed pleased with what he'd found, and two very large fingers were harshly pushed in and wriggled. Vlad wanted to scream. Maybe he _was_ screaming. He certainly hoped he was. The fingers scissored in him, and his thrashing, shoving, and kicking resumed with a harsh new vigor. It still did nothing to deter the spirit atop him, didn't even make him pause. The fingers slipped out, Vlad's legs were forced further apart, and something much bigger prodded at his opening. _NO! NO NO NO! STOP!! STOP IT! NO!_

And then it was in him. And he couldn't breathe. He could feel this fresh wave of tears as it welled up in his eyes and flooded down his cheeks and slightly pooled in his ears. When the ghost pinning him began moving, Vlad resumed screaming. He could feel himself tear with every move, so much so that he was certain his human blood was starting to lube the way alongside his ectoplasm. The gargantuan ghost seemed to be enjoying himself, if the deep, reverberating moans that Vlad felt rather than heard were anything to go by. Plasmius lost all sense of time as he fell involuntarily still, in too much pain to move. It could have been as long as hours, or, hell, even _days_ or as little as minutes or seconds before he felt the ghost on him, _in_ him do something other than force that obscenely large dick of his in and out of the comparatively small halfa.

Vlad was almost, _almost_ , to his happy place where he could forget and ignore what was happening to his body when he distantly registered that the gargantuan gargoyle ghost's hand was on his chest. He was fully prepared to ignore this development and get back to trying to get into his happy place, when it started phasing through. The hand gently stroked Plasmius' core, and a choked sob forced its way out the halfa's throat as his core fluttered nervously, afraid. His mouth fell open in a silent scream as the hand wrapped around his core, and it felt like he was being burned alive. The thrusts slowed as the hand squeezed and rubbed, and the ghost's moans deepened and Plasmius cried harder.

Then, all of a sudden, the hand was gone, the ghost hilted himself harshly inside his unwilling victim, and phased their chests together. And then their cores were touching, and Vlad felt the ghost's come fill him. And fill him, and fill him, and fill him. Seriously, how much could a single entity come? It felt like an eternity before the ghost finally sat up, still fully hilted inside Vlad, but thankfully no longer touching his core. Plasmius couldn't recall a worse moment in his life than when their cores touched. Not the accident that caused him to be half ghost. Not the three horrible years in the hospital. Not even the horrors of his five hellish years spent as a captive of the GiW. It really said something that what Vlad considered a place far worse than the actual Hell could ever be wasn't as bad as the feeling of this bastard's core touching his own.

The ghost said something that Vlad didn't catch, firmly gripped the halfa's hips, and for a brief moment Plasmius feared he was going to go for another round, but he just yanked himself out so fast the halfa tore some more (if such a thing was possible). Vlad felt the ghost's come spill out of him and take some of his blood and ectoplasm with it as it practically poured out of his torn and raw opening. The ghost watched as this happened, as the _mighty Plasmius_ sobbed quietly as ectoplasm, blood, and come pooled beneath him, soaking his cape that surprisingly survived the initial stripping. The ghost laughed, and then he left.

Vlad lay there, sobbing, naked, and in pain, for what was probably hours. When he could move again, he felt around for the fabric of his cape and wrapped himself in it, phasing the sickening puddle of fluids to the rock below as he painfully rolled over and forced himself away from the rock's personal gravity. Shortly after, he vision cleared (although he hadn't been aware it had crapped out in the first place) and he looked frantically at his surroundings, trying to find something to get his bearings. He let out a small, frustrated shout when he realized that he was only about a mile from his portal. _He had almost made it, dammit!_ He turned in the direction of his portal and rocketed towards it.

The trip through the portal was a blur, as was the time between entering his lab and finding himself curled up in his bed wrapped tightly in his blankets sans cape. He distantly hoped he'd locked the portal and turned on his room's ghost shield. His last thought before he passed out was that he wondered if he still had that book he'd been bringing in the subspace pocket dimension somehow existing in his cape, and then the soothing darkness greeted him.


End file.
